Mahogany and Dragon Heartstring
by Metro Kitsune
Summary: You-Know-Who has been defeated. The Boy Who Lived resides in obscurity, and Hogwarts struggles to find normalcy in a world recovering from dark magic. A brash Gryffindor and a boisterous Hufflepuff forge a friendship that brightens those dreary days.
1. Preface

**A/N**: Man, it's been so long. I don't even know if we're still putting author's notes before stories! It has been nearly six years since I last wrote fanfiction so hopefully I haven't rusted out too badly. We'll see. This is my first time writing for something "mainstream," so I'm nervous. XD No real notes for this one, but I need to remind myself to read some more Harry Potter again before I write the next chapter!

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><p><strong>Preface<strong>

_Little Firsties_

"Hey, Weasel! Look here, ginger git!" The newest Weasley at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry had barely started to turn when a particularly nasty Jelly Legs Jinx hit him square in the thighs. He collapsed instantly, grinding some grass stains into his already worn pants and landing freckled nose first in the dirt. He just grunted, propping himself up on arms impressively muscled for an eleven-year-old. Classes had barely begun, but apparently bullying was already in full swing.

"I think this one's deaf and dumb, Horas."

"Not surprising," said the caster, wand still held aloft impressively. While the others mirrored each other with pale skin and varying shades of brown hair, distinguished by their heights and house colors, Horas stood apart. His dusky skin contrasted sharply against the freckled pale skin of his victim, and his black hair fell perfectly in place, unlike the Weasley's messy red mop. Smirking, he knelt down, pushing his wand closer. He kept a careful majesty in each movement, brown eyes shining. "Bunch of in-bred blood traitors, they are."

The boy had swallowed back his words at the first insult. He had developed a strong filter for his instincts. But his family was close, and a jab at them sparked a fury that never ignited when he was insulted individually. He sprung up suddenly, like magic pouring from a broken wand, legs never leaving the ground. He didn't need his legs or even his wand with the strength bundled up in his arms and torso. This Horas was too cocky and too close, and the little Weasley caught him by the collar and slammed him into the ground beside him, no magic required.

"Bloody hell!" the teen cursed, unable to hide his bafflement. He spat out dirt and some more curses, lifting his sharp face from the ground and twisting in an attempt to stand. "You thrice-blighted squib!"

Weasley just slammed a large hand into the Slytherin's chest before he could rise, pinning him down again.. Horas tried to still look in charge, but the majesty had flown from his angular face, his perfectly kept black hair now in messy wisps. His few Slytherin and Ravenclaw buddies backed away from the chaotic foray. They knew Gryffindors to be fierce fighters, but he seemed even more unpredictable than the rest.

"Why should I waste perfectly could magic on a prat like you?" The calm in his voice contrasted his sudden fighting style, and caused the group to step back again. "Merlin, you're a lot of cowards, you are."

Horas, still dazed and now wheezing, spat at the boy. His pride more bruised than even his chest, he flushed beneath his dusky cheeks and summoned a spite he had never needed to show before. He brought up his wand, jabbed it right into the insolent Gryffindor's ribs, and cried out in a voice he had not yet composed. "_Petrificus totalus_!"

Arms seizing up with the rest of his body, the younger boy could no longer keep the older boy pinned. Horas rolled out from under him and surged to his feet with hardly a stumble, dusting off his robes and holding his head up high. His cheeks still burned, but his clear superiority put the cool look back in his eyes.

"Even your scrawny brother can put up a better fight than you, squib," Horas sneered, wand trained right at the boy's dirtied, freckled face. "Never thought even a blood traitor would stoop to Muggle lows like that. Consider this your first real Hogwarts lesson, Weasel." He drew back his wand with a flourish. "_Conjunc_-"

"Professor!" one of the boys squealed. Horas stopped mid-jinx and snapped up his head. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall could be seen approaching from the lakeside. They didn't need points deducted three days into the school year. Horas lowered his wand, then stashed it into his robes. "Don't go squealing, Weasel." His eyes, cold and narrowed, delivered the threat he didn't need to verbalize. In the next moment, the boys were rushing back to the castle.

"Phew!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall as she made it up the slope. The closer she got, the less she looked like herself, until a sprightly young girl with messy brown hair stood over the prone young boy on the ground. "Glad those blokes didn't stick around. Don't think I could've fooled them except at a distance." She crouched down, leaning her face over his. "Wotcher," she said, flashing him a bright smile with one tooth missing. "You all right there? I mean, besides being jinxed. I don't think I can fix that, sorry."

"So'kay," he replied, a laugh dancing from his throat. "It's like taking a lay down in the sun. This thing's got to wear off some time, yeah?"

"I sure hope so." She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, rocking forward on her toes. "Well, how about I keep you company until you can move. You don't seem very good at making friends otherwise."

"Wasn't my fault. He's in my big brother's year, they're always at each other's throats." He tried to shrug, but couldn't move that much yet. "But the company sounds great, lovely."

A splash of pink colored her nose. "Big brother, huh? That's fun. What's your name?"

"You couldn't tell?" He laughed again. "I'm the newest Weasley in town. Charlie. You're Tonks, yeah? Nym-"

"Just Tonks is fine," she interrupted, the pink turning to red quickly. "That's what I'm getting everyone to call me."

"I guess Nymphadora's a bit of a mouthful. But you stopped me at Nym. That's cute, yeah?"

Tonks's whole face went red, and her hair seemed tinted with the color. "I- cute? That is - I hate the name, and that's not even the point, and I-"

This time Charlie interrupted her. "Aw, c'mon. You haven't gone around saving everyone, have you? Then can't I get a special name for my special savior?" He paused, watching her face continue to redden. He couldn't work out why; the name wasn't that bad! "You can give me any nickname you want in return."

Tonks crossed her arms, looking for a moment like she might storm off and leave him lying there alone. She huffed, but then leaned back and sat down with a plop. "Well then, to get a good one I guess I'm just going to have to stick to you like Spello-tape, aren't I?"

Professor Trelawny would have been impressed with just how spot-on little Tonks's prediction of the future would be.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Can I say I didn't expect where this chapter went? Because I didn't. Boys, this is why we can't have nice things. Also, apologies for updating a month later, and it may or may not happen again... I am at rehearsals for four shows on the weekends, looking for a job, and generally going crazy. I'll do my best though!

Making a timeline with the Weasleys' school years was fun. So many gingers. I love them.

Why can't I title chapters? *sulk*

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_Start of a Long Year_**  
><strong>

"You missed potions. Again."

Charlie cracked open an eye. A piercing ray of sun stung his face, and he brought a hand up quickly, shading away the bright sun and the brighter hair of Nymphadora. He didn't need to see her shocking new shade of pink to know who was nudging him awake.

"So'kay," he mumbled, rolling to the side, hiding once more under the retreating shade. "Already know how to make a Mandrake Elixir. Trust me, Nym, a nap was a much better use of time."

Tonks dropped down to sit against their favorite tree. She gave his freckled nose a tweak before dropping a corned beef sandwich on his chest. "Well, there's no good reason for you to be missing lunch now." She withdrew her own sandwich from her school bag.

Charlie grinned and sat bolt upright the moment the food thudded on his chest. "None at all!" he said around a mouthful of food. By the time Tonks had taken her second bite, Charlie was licking the crumbs off his thumb. "Have you got any m-"

Tonks thrust a meat pasty into his hands in response. "Don't inhale this one. I can't fit a whole picnic in here."

Before he took his first bite, Charlie said, "Well, if you perform an Extension Charm with a -"

"Charlie!" Tonks sighed in exasperation. "Lunch is off limits for tutoring."

"Sorry." Charlie ducked his head, but still wore his warm grin. He put a large hand on her shoulder, pulling her in toward him. It was almost sweet - until the redhead moved his hand down to her wrist and lifted up, leaning in and taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Chuck, no!" Tonks yanked the sandwich away and huffed. But she had addressed him warmly all the same, and laughed despite the large chunk of sandwich missing. "This is the last time I bring you lunch. I'll let you sleep through it next time."

"You said that last Friday," Charlie said carelessly, returning to his own meat pasty. "We both know better, lovely."

"Mm-hmm." She remained leaning up against him, feeling his warmth seeping into her school robes. She returned to nibbling on her sandwich, but now her gaze wandered. She hid a smile behind her sandwich when she noticed just how red his face was; he'd slept too long in the sun. He'd always appeared darker than his brothers, what with how clustered his freckles were, but the sun had started tinting the pale skin beneath his freckles, blending them together. He spent so much time outside now, with or without her. She hated the times he was without her, while she was cooped up in detention for some small prank or just not allowed nearby. She had long since been reprimanded for "spying" on Gryffindor's Quidditch practices. She wondered what new shade he'd be after this latest bout of sun cleared up.

Suddenly, his blue eyes met hers. "Something the matter, Nym? Have I got somethi-"

"Yeah, just a little bit of something right there," Tonks said quickly, reaching up to wipe some imaginary crumbs from his chin. "Saving a snack for the Jarveys?"

"Hm, might be a good idea," he replied without missing a beat. He shoved the rest of the pasty into his mouth, chewing it without moving his gaze. In truth, he missed spending quite as much time outdoors with Tonks, too. Time just seemed to flee from him lately. He couldn't say no to exciting opportunities, like his recent taking on of a pack of Jarveys that Professor Kettleburn was training to hunt gnomes. And Quidditch! The game was a siren to the boy. But Nym, she made it all much more fun. He wished she'd gotten on to her house's Quidditch team. He worried, in the brief moments when he slowed down enough to think about anything but the present, that his getting so busy had led to Nym getting into more trouble. Or at least getting caught more often while getting into trouble. Their plans always seemed more fool-proof when done as a pair.

"Wanna come help me feed the little buggers before lunch is over?" he asked after a quiet moment - unnoticed by him and appreciated by Tonks, who was wondering if she could get the interesting shade of blue of his eyes as her next hair color. "I'll mention it to Professor Sprout in passing," he said with a wry grin. "You can finally earn back a few points to make up for all your fun."

"Ha!" Though her lips had begun to move, the outburst did not come from Tonks. Both grimaced at the familiar voice. "Thought I'd find a Weasel or two out here."

"Get lost, Horas," Charlie said evenly. He leaned forward, planting a hand on the ground beside Tonks, propped up defensively in front of her.

"Is that the advice you took from your pathetic little friend there? Why else would an upstanding Prefect go and miss class?"

"Hey!" Tonks exclaimed, cheeks burning, "he didn't-"

"Her advice is to show up to class," Charlie said. "Don't you have your own classes to worry about? Or are you gonna have your dad buy your passing N.E.W.T. grades, too?" Had Horas not insulted Tonks, Charlie would have stilled his tongue, but Horas never learned.

Horas had grown thicker-skinned from the middle Weasley in Hogwarts, though. Bill never retorted quite as harshly as Charlie did. Horas would never admit to learning anything from a boy two years his junior, but his dusky cheeks did not burn as they had when they had first encountered one another. He just laughed. "Jealous my father can afford more than a bit of dirt?"

"At least my father can afford his dignity. I'd rather have my honor than a handful of galleons."

Charlie's voice had evened out, not grown into the growl that indicated his true anger. Tonks let out a sigh as Charlie's free hand moved from his wand sheath, though the arm planted in front of her was still tense. "Chuck," she whispered, too soft for even him to hear her.

Horas scoffed. "Can't live off honor. It's cruel, really," he mused, taking a condescending tone that crawled under Charlie's skin, "having so many children and not being able to provide for them."

Charlie began to reach for his wand again.

"Seven brats? That's not love, it's foolish carelessness."

His hand wrapped around the wand's handle; his jaw clenched.

"William might have gotten some magic, but he's a bore, you fight like a squib, and little Percy's only good for target practice. And that's only the first three!"

Charlie scrambled to his feet, wand out and trained on Horas, his arm as steady as a golem. "What've your lackeys been doing to my little brother?" he asked before Horas could carry on with his tirade. Tonks made it to her feet only a moment behind Charlie's action. She shadowed him perfectly, her wand also in hand and her mind reeling with thoughts for little Percy's well-being.

"Tsk." Horas had his hand up his robe sleeve, obviously clutching his wand, but he did not draw it yet. "This is why Prefects need to keep better company. That ruffian muddies you even more than your name."

Charlie let out a low growl, the vibration in his throat and the simple anger almost more audible than the actual sound. He took a stomp of a step forward, wand still poised but other hand drawing back in a fist. It trembled, cocked back; he wanted still to warn more than attack.

"I know why you cling to it, though, this adoration from the half-blood. Your mother and father can't have spent much time paying you any mind. Any scrap of love must be more than-"

Charlie's fist silenced Horas, slamming into his mouth. The Weasley's wand had hit the ground, sending off a jet of red light that scorched his favorite shade tree. He didn't care, and his ears burned too much to hear Tonks yelling his name. He didn't see her grab his wand, clutching it until it stopped spewing forth magic. He saw nothing but Horas on the ground. He felt no pride in seeing the blood welling up from the older boy's split lip, but kept his chin tilted up. "You talk too much."

Horas had too much pride to cry out, but even he couldn't keep his chin up after the sucker punch. He had lost his feet beneath him, crumpled up on the ground, holding a hand over his bleeding mouth. His other hand, stuck in his sleeve yet, grasped the wand but in the chaos of the punch and hitting the ground, he couldn't get it out. "Barbaric squib," he spat, blood flecking the grass. The physical pain wasn't quite like the vibrating, tingling pain of a spell. He struggled to stand, but only managed to sit up, finally tearing his wand out of his sleeve.

He'd show this stupid squib the power of a spell over brute force.

Charlie wasn't about to give Horas the chance. He lunged, eyes focused on the wand. He didn't need a disarming spell.

"That's enough!" Tonks grabbed Charlie from behind. The wands jabbed at Charlie, and though she didn't have the strength to truly stop him, the surprise and sudden weight changed his lunge to a crash into the ground. Horas's spell sailed over them, the incantation silent. "You're both idiots!" she screamed, quite pink in the face, matching her hair. Tangled up with Charlie, she lifted both her wand and his to point at Horas. "I don't know what will happen if I try a spell with both wands, Horas, but I don't think you'd quite like it. Let's call this one a draw-"

"Nym!"

"Half-!"

"-_okay_?" She refused to be interrupted this time. "Run along before I report you both to Dumbledore."

Both boys sat staring at the other, seething, and both a right mess. Anchored down by Tonks, Charlie couldn't rise first. Horas got to his feet, wand pointed down. After another tense moment, he shoved his wand back into his sleeve. "Professor Snape will hear of this." He turned in a sharp movement, and marched back to the castle, his robes billowing despite the still air.

Tonks let out a long sigh. She realized then just how tightly she was holding Charlie, and her cheeks went from pink to red. With a bit of unwillingness, she let go of him, finding her own feet and pushing him forward, giving herself the momentum to stand. "It's too early in the year for this nonsense, Chuck," she scolded.

Charlie let out an even longer sigh. Instead of standing, he dropped backward, staring up at the sky and feeling the warm grass through his robes. "It's his last year. He's going to be relent-"

"He's not the one what started the fight. You-"

"Didn't start the fight?" Charlie sat bolt upright with a speed Tonks rarely saw outside the Quidditch Pitch. "Weren't you listening?"

"He spouts off nonsense all the time. Trust me, I've gotten good at expecting the end of term duel between you blokes. But this? We're barely three weeks into the year."

Charlie ran a hand over his face, flopping back once again. "S'gonna be a long year."

"At least the twins aren't starting 'til next year. _That_ will be a long year." Tonks had eased her cheeks to a more natural color, and wore a smile again, if just a little more contained. She grabbed one of Charlie's large hands in both of hers, tugging up. "C'mon, you're not allowed to sulk, not on my watch. Weren't we going to go feed those little jerks? You owe me a word of praise to Sprout even more now and I've gotta earn it in a way that doesn't get you in trouble."

Charlie couldn't keep frowning, not around her when she beamed at him like that. "Yeah, yeah, okay, lovely." He pulled himself to his feet on one of her tugs, and the two stumbled forward a couple of steps together. He took the moment to drape his arm around her. "Let's go. Jarveys at least have more wit than old Horas."


End file.
